


Cardcaptor Uhura

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Magic, Bickering, Communication, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, Gen, Prompt Fic, Responsibility, Starfleet Academy, cotton candy bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6981229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nyota Uhura occasionally regrets her sense of responsibility, particularly when the magical cards she accidentally released onto Starfleet Academy campus get in the way of her classes. Fortunately (or unfortunately), Gaila and Spock make sure she never misses a crisis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cardcaptor Uhura

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sablin27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sablin27/gifts).



> This ficlet was written on 5/17/16 for [sablin27](http://sablin27.dreamwidth.org), in response to the prompt: _Uhura, Spock and Gaila chase friendly but flighty magical cards (a la Card Captor Sakura)_. It is also a [Cotton Candy Bingo](http://cottoncandy_bingo.dreamwidth.org) fill for the square _WILD CARD_.
> 
> I've never actually read or watched _Cardcaptor Sakura_ , but I hope this is more or less what you wanted. :D

Nyota's comm vibrates halfway through a warp navigation quiz.

She thinks about the possible consequences of checking her messages: public humiliation, an automatic failing mark if Professor Avci sees her texting. Then she thinks about the possible consequences of _not_ answering, and fishes her comm out of her hoodie.

Gaila's sent her one word: _CARD_

Nyota lets her head thump down onto her desk, forehead smearing the scribbles and eraser marks of her latest equation, and curses her past self yet again for touching anything from the Song Library's special collections, even if all she was trying to do was put the intricately carved wood-bound book back from where some jerk had knocked it to the floor. Then she texts a quick answer.

_i'm in the middle of a test; can we wait twenty minutes?_

_NO_ , Gaila texts back not even a second later. _its making people laugh so hard they FALL UNCONSCIOUS this is not something people can overlook someones going to call the admiralty or the cdc if we dont hurry pretend youre sick or something and GET TO WILDE HALL_

 _punctuation is still a thing that exists_ , Nyota sends, because habit is better than panicking. Then she grabs her backpack, tosses her half-finished test paper onto the professor's desk, and flees with only a mumbled, "Sorry, I have a thing," by way of an excuse. Hopefully she can make up the lost points on her midterm.

 _did you tell spock?_ she texts as she sprints through Nguyen Hall, down the stairs at the east end, and out the door onto the south quad.

 _DUH_ , Gaila says. _hes blowing around a bunch of pollen so the laughing maybe looks like a weird allergy symptom instead of magic YAY PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY but neither of us knows what card this is or what it wants its left academy grounds though heading southwest meet us at golden gate park_

Twenty-five minutes later, Nyota has run across what feels like half of San Francisco, dodging exhausted clumps of still helplessly laughing cadets and civilians, and is crouched behind a tea bush in the hastily evacuated botanical gardens. The card-sprite flits from one flowering tree to the next while Nyota gulps for breath and listens to her unfairly attractive roommate and her equally unfairly attractive phonology TA hold a whispered battle over what to do next.

"I don't need magic to see that we're obviously dealing with Delirium or Mischief," Gaila insists yet again. "Which means we should try to herd the sprite into the hedge maze and hit it with Calm so Nyota can seal and sign the card. This isn't rocket science!"

"I can think of at least two other cards that might produce the observed effects, which logically implies that your certainty is misplaced," Spock says, with the particular lack of intonation that means he's repressing a strong desire to punch something. "Attempting capture without a better analysis only invites further chaos. If you stopped distracting me for even thirty seconds, I could begin scrying for--"

At times like this, Nyota really wishes she were a little less ethical and therefore willing to steal the damned book that started this whole mess. The exhibit it was part of isn't on display anymore, and so far she and Gaila have only found two plausible excuses to request an hour studying it under a librarian's close supervision. And of course they can't photograph or copy the pages, because magic is never that convenient, so they're stuck relying on iffy memories and guesswork, plus a ballpoint pen that now doubles as the most ridiculous magic wand Nyota's ever heard of. (What they're going to do when it inevitably runs out of ink, she really doesn't want to think about.)

"I don't care what card it is, and I'm not going to start by hitting it over the head with mind control," she says, interrupting the argument. "I'm going to try talking it down."

"That never works!" Gaila whispers furiously. "And what if it hits you? You can't call any cards if you're laughing too hard to speak!"

"Technically speaking, communication has worked twice," Spock says. As Gaila hisses in fury, he adds, "I still advise against this. Without knowing which card this is, we have no way to predict how it will react to the thought of relinquishing its freedom."

The thing is, they're not wrong. Talking to an unbound card is always a risk -- even the ones with silly, ultra-specific uses are still powered by the same overwhelming magic. But the day Nyota starts using force without first trying to communicate is the day she'll stop recognizing herself in the mirror.

And like Spock said, asking politely _has_ worked twice. Maybe today will be her third success.

"I'm trusting you guys to think of a backup plan," she says, and stands from behind the tea bush.

The card-sprite -- a lovely, androgynous figure about ten centimeters tall, butterfly-winged, nearly translucent, and wrapped in shimmering rainbow bubbles -- flits upward in alarm and raises its hands. A bright pink glow gathers between its palms.

"Hello," Nyota says quickly, ballpoint pen held loosely between her fingers. "My name is Uhura, and I'm the one who accidentally blew you away from the rest of your deck. I hope you haven't had too many troubles out on your own. Would you like to come rejoin your friends?"

She holds her breath and hopes.


End file.
